something of that sort. [Looks at her a moment.] You are so bright, Miss Hilda; really you are very bright, you know. When I come home again you will be just about as old as your sister is now. Perhaps you will look as she looks now; and perhaps you will have grown like her in mind as well. Very likely you will be, as it were, both yourself and her—in one body, so to speak.
Hilda.
Would that please you?
Lyngstrand.
I don't quite know. Yes, I almost think so. But now—for this summer—I prefer you to be like yourself alone—just exactly as you are.
Hilda.
Do you like me best so?
Lyngstrand.
Yes, I like you exceedingly as you are.
Hilda.
H'm,—tell me,—as an artist—do you think I do right in always wearing light summer dresses?
Lyngstrand.
Yes, I think you do perfectly right.
Hilda.
Then you think bright colours suit me?
Lyngstrand.
Yes, charmingly, to my taste.
